Q's WC Drabbles
by QWERTYfaced
Summary: WC-related drabble collection. Likely to be mostly humor, but we'll see where it goes. [Genfic: humor, romance, angst, etc.] 9/3/13: #8 - Loser Buys Lunch.
1. 1-2: Happy Birthday

**Title:** Happy Birthday, Peter; Happy Birthday, Neal  
**Author:** QWERTYfaced  
**Fandom:** White Collar  
**Wordcount:** 100 each  
**Rating:** G  
**Characters:** Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke  
**Genre:** Drabble, gen, humor  
**Notes:** Wrote #1 because I needed to cheer myself up after some work on "Senseless." Then, because turnabout is fair play, I scribbled #2 as a companion to #1.  
**Summary:** What might the boys get each other for birthdays?  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction. All characters and settings belong to their respective copyright holders, not me. Which is why I don't have a llama herd yet.

* * *

_1. Happy Birthday, Peter_

The cookie tray held little shields, baseballs, and horses...and so far, the gifts couldn't have been more apropos.

From Jones and Diana, a baseball signed by the current Yankees roster. From the Harvard Crew, a .40 caliber dummy bullet, engraved with the legend "World's Best Boss."

Which left Neal's gift: large, round, and presented with a suspiciously innocent expression and a gleam of mischief in blue eyes.

Peter unwrapped the box. There was laughter when people saw the brand name.

"Stetson?" he asked.

Neal grinned. "Happy birthday, Peter. This completes the theme."

Peter Burke lifted out the white hat.

* * *

_2. Happy Birthday, Neal_

After gazing at the box suspiciously for some time, the consultant finally slipped off the ribbon and opened it. His expression turned quizzical as he regarded the small item nestled on the cotton padding inside.

"You got me a lock?"

"It's a puzzle. 100% guaranteed unpickable."

"Well, we'll see about that."

Two days later, Neal Caffrey stalked into Peter's office and slapped an X-ray film down on the desk.

Peter chuckled, the sound full of satisfaction.

"Happy birthday, Neal."

_"Very funny, Peter."_

On the film, the welding lines were clearly visible, turning all the parts inside into one immovable lump.


	2. 3-4: Best Case and Worst Case

**Title:** Best-Case Scenario; Worst-Case Scenario  
**Author:** QWERTYfaced  
**Fandom:** White Collar  
**Wordcount:** 100 each  
**Rating:** G  
**Characters:** Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke  
**Genre:** Drabble, gen, humor  
**Notes:** Just because.  
**Summary:** Neal and Peter's best case...and their worst.  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction. All characters and settings belong to their respective copyright holders, not me. Which is why I don't have a personal jetpack yet.

* * *

_3. Best-Case Scenario_

"Another securities fraud? How thrilling." Neal leaned back, tipping his hat over his eyes.

"Securities fraud reported by Brendan Paxton...the legendary baseball historian," Peter said, his eyes gleaming.

His partner came abruptly upright, the hat falling into his lap. "Paxton has the largest private collection of Pont-Aven School art in North America. We _should _go see him."

"Immediately."

"At his house." Neal was already up and moving through the door Peter held open.

The next moment, they were gone.

Jones surveyed the packed conference room, then turned to Diana.

"They forgot we were here, didn't they?" he asked.

"Yep."

* * *

_4. Worst-Case Scenario_

There were so many balled-up tissues, the inside of the van looked like it had been hit by an intensely localized blizzard.

"I'b goig to kill Jodes," Peter announced, before blowing his nose again.

Neal nodded miserably and sneezed. "I'll help. Got sub chisels at hobe."

"Got a gud," Peter said decisively. "Teach hib dot to spread colds."

"Good."

They paused for some synchronized sneezing.

"Hey, Peder."

"What, Deal?" Peter raised streaming eyes from the monitor. Oddly, his partner suddenly looked delighted by something. Bleary, but delighted.

Neal smiled beatifically, waving a handful of tissues.

"I cad't smell the vad."


	3. 5-7: The Satin Trio

**Title:** Charmeuse; Façonné; Duchesse (Satin Trio)  
**Author:** QWERTYfaced  
**Fandom:** White Collar  
**Wordcount:** 100 each  
**Rating:** PG  
**Characters/Pairings:** Neal Caffrey/Sara Ellis; Peter Burke/Elizabeth Burke; June Ellington/Byron Ellington  
**Genre:** Drabble, gen, humor, romance, angst  
**Notes:** Written for Challenge #161 - Satin at the LJ whitecollar100 community.  
**Summary:** Three satin weaves, three dresses, and three couples.  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction. All characters and settings belong to their respective copyright holders, not me. Which is why I don't have a food replicator yet.

* * *

_5. Charmeuse_

What made Sara fascinating was her volatility.

Whenever Neal kissed her, he never quite knew what he was getting into. She could be fierce and passionate, sweet and pliant—or sometimes, sly and teasing.

She twirled, and the gossamer charmeuse flirted around her, giving tantalizing glimpses of leg.

Neal reached for her. Laughing, she slid effortlessly from his grasp yet again, then stood at fingertip's length with a smile that welcomed and challenged.

"Come on, Caffrey, that's not an answer. How do you like the new dress?"

He sighed ruefully. "Next time, I'll buy you one that's not so slippery."

* * *

_6. Façonné_

_Come home for dinner tonight,_ Elizabeth texted. _Don't bring Neal._

By the time she heard the Taurus outside, the table was bedecked in linen, silver, and china. She lit the last of a flickering cityscape of candles, then smoothed her elegant new dress.

She'd had to buy it. The façonné was damasked with the same weave as her wedding gown.

When Peter walked in, El folded herself into his unquestioning embrace, where she always felt safe...special...lucky.

"Did I forget—" he began.

She kissed the worry from his lips.

"No. I just love it when you come home."

* * *

_7. Duchesse_

_"My duchess in duchesse." Byron's eyes came alight when he saw his young bride._

June smiled, running a hand down the gleaming satin. The dress was new, expensive. Byron had been so proud to give it to her, had promised it was only the start.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Pure silk, baby. Flawless." His hand was warm against her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek. "And I don't mean the dress."

His kiss tenderly blotted out her world.

June smiled, but her hands trembled as she put the dress away again. She breathed—sighed—the perfume of cedarwood.

"Byron..."


	4. 8: Loser Buys Lunch

**Title:** Loser Buys Lunch  
**Author:** QWERTYfaced  
**Fandom:** White Collar  
**Wordcount:** 100 x 4  
**Rating:** G  
**Characters:** Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey  
**Genre:** Drabble, gen, humor  
**Notes:** Written for Challenge #131 - Play at the LJ whitecollar100 community.  
**Summary:** On a slow day at the office, Peter and Neal do pencil puzzles to decide who buys lunch.  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction. All characters and settings belong to their respective copyright holders, not me. Which is why I don't have a Ferrari yet.

* * *

Peter glanced with mild irritation at his partner across the desk.

"Don't you have anything to do? Paperwork?"

Neal shook his head, still playing with a deck of cards. "You?"

And Peter didn't, which was annoying him. The rare slow day could be as trying as a catastrophe.

He was fishing out the newspaper when a thought occurred. A little hunting produced a second copy. He slapped it down in front of Neal, folded to the crossword.

"Loser buys lunch," he challenged.

Five minutes later, he put down the pen and grinned smugly.

"Baseball-themed," Neal sighed. "That's unfair."

* * *

The agent gestured to the rest of the puzzle page. "Okay, you're right. How about best overall?"

Neal hesitated, but as Peter well knew, he'd never been able to resist a challenge. With a glance at the dragging clock hands, he nodded. "You're on. Anagrams next?"

Peter nodded, covering a sly smile. Once again, he was done well before Neal had puzzled his way through half the clues.

When Peter's pen hit the desk, Neal looked up incredulously from his meticulous lists of letter combinations. The consultant stared at Peter's neat, confident answers, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Baseball-themed _again?_"

* * *

The number puzzles were a close race, but although Neal took the sudoku honors, Peter came out ahead on the kakuro. The bonus acrostic, however, proved to be full of baseball clues yet again.

This time, at the triumphant little click of Peter's pen, Neal looked up in blatant irritation and then ostentatiously fingered the texture of the paper and sniffed at the ink.

Peter's own expression was sunny as he held up the Sports section, pointing to the top headline.

_Yankees Celebrate 110 Years in New York_

"You really should read _all_ of the paper, Neal," he said cheerfully.

* * *

For a moment, Neal betrayed utter chagrin before regaining his equanimity. He stood and came around the desk, offering a magnanimous handshake.

"Oh, well," he said. He tossed Peter his jacket. "Let's have lunch."

The meal, at an exclusive little bistro, was frankly sumptuous. Peter watched complacently while Neal signed the bill, then looked up in confusion when the folder was flicked across the table to him.

"The loser _buys_ ... but he doesn't necessarily _pay_."

Peter stared down at his own gold card.

"Never try to con a con," Neal said, winking.

He was gone before Peter could stop him


End file.
